


Role Call

by Lady_Arkytior_of_Dunans



Series: A Bundle of Legacies [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Origin Story, Prologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28480299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arkytior_of_Dunans/pseuds/Lady_Arkytior_of_Dunans
Summary: A long, long time ago, there were eight individuals who shaped the galaxy and all the worlds they touched. But long before they were the great powers of the galaxy, they were young and green, untested by hardships.These are their stories.
Series: A Bundle of Legacies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086140
Kudos: 3





	1. The Hunter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stars Alike In Dignity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10222829) by [angelicfangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelicfangirl/pseuds/angelicfangirl). 



> I know the saying is technically "roll call", but that's the point. Each character in these stories has their role to play. This is the first story in a long series and I hope you guys enjoy it!

Sha'arii crossed her arms and tilted her head back so she looked like she was snoozing in her seat. Mako sat next to her, surfing the extranet. No one else could tell, but both women were fully alert. Lowering their guard while still on Hutta was just a dumb move.

Fortunately, they'd made enough of a name for themselves during their short time on Hutta that everyone else on the shuttle seemed unwilling to start something with them.

Sha'arii had never been to Hutta before, and after this trip, she'd be thrilled to never see this mudball again. She'd only known Braden and Jori for a few days, but they'd seemed like good men. They judged her purely on her skill as a hunter, and not on her merit as an alien. Rattataki weren't uncommon in Hutt space, but they usually fell into the "mindlessly aggressive" stereotype. She'd almost given up hope of ever getting into the Great Hunt when Braden contacted her.

Now, the old man was dead and Jori with him. It was just her and Mako against that cheating bastard, Taro Blood.

Well, he was out of luck. With Mako at her side, Sha'arii knew without a doubt that she would make it to the Melee. Then, she would prove herself as a hunter and take that murderer down.


	2. The Knight

Dylex took a deep breath as he boarded the shuttle leaving Tython. He did his best to maintain the outward calm expected of a Jedi Knight, despite the energy buzzing under his skin. He'd faced darkness and danger and had emerged victorious. Now, he carried his very own lightsaber and stood as a knighted member of the Jedi Order.

Master Orgus had remained poised the whole time he spoke about what happened with Bengel Morr at the Forge, but he hadn't been able to hide the pride shining in his eyes. Dylex had always been the sort to excel, whether it was in his studies or in his force training. And yet, he never grew tired of the feeling he got when he managed to exceed the expectations of others. He knew that emotions and feelings were dangerous, but he always took pride in his work and strove to never give less than his all.

"Jedi + T7-O1 = locked in and ready to go; Destination = Coruscant;"

"We'll be heading to the Republic Fleet first," Dylex commented to the droid. "Then we'll catch a shuttle to Coruscant. We can't be there too long, but we should have enough time to upgrade our equipment before catching our connection."

"Better gear = higher rate of success;"

"Exactly." T7 had more personality than Dylex had ever seen in a droid before, but he couldn't say he disliked that quality. The little astromech felt more like a friend and ally than an appliance like so many other droid models. If the feeling in his gut was anything to go by, he would need a good friend and ally at his back.

Dylex was never particularly skilled with premonitions, but he could still sense that there was something looming in the not too distant future. Something dark and dangerous was out there and he was going to have to face it at some point. He'd encountered darkness in the past, experienced pain and loss. He hadn't succumbed to it then, and he wouldn't succumb when he was next tested. With T7 and Master Orgus and the Jedi Council, he would face whatever trials arose.

He would never fall.


	3. The Inquisitor

Silver eyes darted around, taking in everything as Llonii stepped onto the shuttle. People bustled past her, pushing and shoving and glaring in annoyance. She just smiled viciously back at them, enjoying the instant when their eyes slid over to the hulking figure behind her. She might be Sith now, but she wasn't foolish enough to think that people would start respecting her right away. After all, that fool Harkun was able to make it as a Sith. Clearly, there were some bad apples in the bunch.

It would take time for people to learn her name and even longer for them to learn to fear it. In the meantime, Khem would be the perfect proxy, frightening her enemies until they grew smart enough to fear her.

She took her time choosing a seat, wanting the best angle of vision and a wall at her back, before ordering Khem to sit down as well. The dashade grumbled about the cramped seating, but dutifully obeyed. It was nice having someone obey her orders for a change.

It was also nice being in a proper shuttle instead of shipping crates or slave pens. The shuttle she took to Korriban had been just as open, but she'd been too busy sizing up her fellow acolytes to really appreciate the space. Now, she had no competition and a monster watching her back. She wasn't foolish enough to think that her rise to power would be easy, but she planned to enjoy every step of her ascension. Especially when it meant stepping over the bodies of those who would oppose her.

For too long she'd been a slave, an experiment, a target, a plaything for those with power. Finally, the power was hers and she would NEVER be a slave to anyone or anything ever again.


	4. The Agent

The Agent was just finishing up the documentation on her datapad when the shuttle docked with the Imperial Fleet. She had just enough time to stop by some vendors to make a few purchases before boarding the shuttle that would take her to Dromund Kaas. It took a bit of reworking, but she was also able to give herself a nice time cushion to account for Kaliyo's presence and the likelihood that she would cause some kind of delay. The rattataki would no doubt make future missions interesting to say the least.

Still, even Kaliyo's disruptive presence couldn't put a damper on the Agent's mood. She was finally heading back to Imperial Space. The Agent managed to hide her discomfort perfectly (she was damn good at her job), but it was a relief to not be such an oddity any longer.

She was used to getting looks and stares in Imperial Space, as chiss weren't exactly commonplace. She'd been the subject of more than a few derogatory names and racist slurs. Still, it was better than being out in Hutt space. It seemed like everyone was watching her the whole time she was out there. Some had been relatively harmless, looking to sate curiosity or hit an easy mark. Others only saw her exotic coloring and sought to claim a valuable slave. Even before arriving on Hutta and receiving orders from Keeper, the agent had been forced to discretely deal with two different assailants after leaving Imperial space.

There were times where she missed the Chiss Ascendency, missed being around her own kind. But she was determined to do her best in Imperial Intelligence. She'd trained her whole life to be a master of infiltration and espionage. When the chance at a transfer to Imperial Intelligence presented itself, she worked night and day to prove that she was the best option. Out of the hundreds of applicants, only a dozen were chosen to be presented. In the end, her superiors had chosen her to go as the newest representative of the Ascendency. She was determined to prove that she had been the correct choice by impressing Keeper. She would prove that being non-human didn't make her sub-human.


	5. The Smuggler

Pa'taq sighed as he flopped down into a seat on the shuttle. Corso sat down next to him, still tense from everything they'd been through in the last few hours. Damn Skavak. Damn him! Pa'taq should've known better than to play politics. The one time he listens to his big sister and tries to make a legitimate run for the Republic, it all blows up in his face. He should've stuck to running guns and contraband for the Cartel. Sure, it was sketchy work, but at least it paid well. And, apparently, it was less dangerous. In all the runs he'd made for various underworld individuals, he'd never had his ship and cargo stolen.

But no. He just had to listen to his sister and deliver guns for the Republic troops. Not that this "legitimate" run was all on the up and up. Didn't the Republic have their own suppliers? Why were they buying guns off of some guy called "Rogun the Butcher"?

Well, it wasn't his problem anymore. She was the one who joined the Republic army, so she could be the patriot. He would deal with whatever bounty hunters Rogun sent after him. He would find Skavak, kill the son of a bith, and get his ship back. Then he would find a nice cantina and a pretty lady and enjoy some relaxation.


	6. The Trooper

Baat'leth was silent as she and Jorgan made their way onto the shuttle. She'd been so excited to join Havok Squad and really prove herself. Then everything went to shit. She kept going over every single interaction in her head, trying to see if there was anything she missed, any hint that Tavus and the others had been planning to defect.

Nothing.

Tavus and his team had worked together for years. They knew exactly how to operate with one another. They'd acted like the perfect little soldiers, training the newbie. Still, she couldn't not accept some of the blame. Between Jorgan yelling at her to do better and Tavus and the others complimenting her, she'd been too wrapped up in her own success to really look at the rest of the squad.

She hadn't known them long, but she'd grown attached to them. Or, perhaps she'd grown attached to the thought of them and what they represented. Either way, it felt like a stab in the gut when she found them handing the ZR-57 over to the Imps. She fought like hell, but she hadn't been anywhere near good enough to take out the entirety of the former Havok Squad.

She was still reeling from the whole thing, only just now getting a chance to process everything. She was promoted and placed in charge of forming a new Havok Squad and Jorgan was demoted and placed under her command. They hadn't spoken much since then and not at all since they'd boarded the shuttle. She didn't know how to start, now that the entire dynamic had shifted. She just hoped that they could both be professional about the whole situation and catch those traitors.


	7. The Warrior

"So, Master... Sithy.... Lord..... Person." The Pure Blood cocked brow ridge and glanced over at the twi'lek in the seat next to her. The girl had been uncharacteristically silent through the first half of the shuttle ride, so Tiiarrah had been waiting to see when the girl would finally crack.

"I have killed people for less disrespectful names," she said casually. "In the future, I would suggest you pick more appropriate titles for me."

"Uh...right. Um, my lord."

"Better."

"So... am I allowed to talk? And ask questions? And stuff?"

"Well, you're asking questions now and I haven't killed you for it."

"Good point."

"Yes. Did you have one? Or did you just want to ask questions about asking questions?"

"Right. Point. Yes. I wanted to ask about the collar. Specifically, about taking it off? Not that I don't love the constant fear of electrocution." Tiiarrah suppressed a smirk at the sassy sarcasm dripping from that last sentence.

"It's a slave collar. You're a slave, so you wear the collar."

"Okay, but what if I promise to behave? The collar is to punish slaves, right?"

"You're suggesting I reward good behavior?"

"Yes! Yes, I'll be on my best behavior! No back-talk, or messing around. You give me a job and I'll do it. And in return, my benevolent, kind, Sith master, you'll take the collar off?"

Tiiarrah shot the girl a look at the utter bullshit spewing from her mouth. Sith were not 'benevolent' or 'kind'. Vette just kept up her pleading gaze.

"Very well," Tiiarrah agreed. "If you prove that you can behave yourself, I will remove the collar." She'd had slaves before, of course. Her family was very old and very powerful among both the Sith and the Imperial Military. Not having slaves would have been downright scandalous.

But Vette was different. She wasn't a good little slave like all the others. She spoke her mind and sassed whomever she wanted with little regard for the consequences. Tiiarrah had found the little twi'lek to be incredibly annoying at first, but the girl had slowly grown on her. There was a fire in her eyes that Tiiarrah had never seen in anyone who wasn't in a position of great power.

This girl wasn't the heir to some great legacy. She didn't come from a powerful family, or wield the Force. She wasn't exceptionally strong or attractive. She just...was. Vette was a pitiful little creature with the fire of a ferocious beast. What she lacked in physical attributes, she made up for in wit and cunning. And bravery. There were few alive who would talk to a Sith in such a manner and live to tell about it. Vette was far from eloquent, but Tiiarrah found she couldn't be mad at Vette for the way she speaks. The young Sith suspected that this girl would make for a valuable servant.


	8. The Consular

"Herald. You are well?" Qyzen asked as they took their seats on the shuttle.

"I'm fine, Qyzen. Though recent events have left me...unsettled. I'm going to meditate for a bit."

"Very well, Herald. Will let you know when shuttle arrives."

"Thank you, my friend." Friend. Zaifua honestly never thought she would be calling a trandoshan 'friend'. She shouldn't be surprised, though. Ever since she arrived on Tython, nothing had happened the way she expected it to. If there was one thing she learned on this planet, it was that the only way to truly be prepared for anything was to be prepared for everything.

The first step in preparing herself was to calm her mind and organize her thoughts. Zaifua bowed her head and closed her eyelids. Being miraluka meant that she had no eyes, only empty sockets, but opening and closing those sockets beneath her protective visor helped her focus and manage her Force Sight. She retreated to an old memory of her first Jedi teacher. Master Jirail, a fellow miraluka and one of her favorite teachers when she was young.

"Our sight is a gift, youngling. As miraluka, we see things in a way that others do not. This gives us a unique perspective that can grant us an advantage that others lack. Communing with the Force and training as a Jedi will strengthen this ability. However. You must learn to control this sight just as you would any other Force power. If you do not learn to tune it out, you could become overwhelmed and distracted. Or worse. All Jedi are capable of sensing feelings in others. At times, our sight can give us a deeper look into what others are feeling and why. But we must remember that There is no emotion, there is peace. If we cannot control our own abilities, we may find ourselves lost in emotion, be they ours or those of another. Learn to tune out your surroundings and any emotions that seek to cloud your judgment."

She was certainly feeling more than a little distracted as she felt the shuttle lift off the ground and climb up through the atmosphere. The Force rippled and flowed about everything around her, painting a clear picture of her surroundings and all the people sharing the shuttle. Zaifua sat in her seat with her eyes closed and focused on her own steady breathing. Meditating would be easier if she could sit in a proper meditation pose, but space on the shuttle was limited so she just had to make do. She chanted the Jedi Code in her mind, slowly building a wall between herself and the world around her. She could breathe a little easier once her mind was isolated. She could still feel the ebb and flow of the Force around her, but it was no longer demanding her attention.

Next, she built a wall to block off her own emotions. The uncertainty and doubt tried to eat away at her, but she focused on locking them away. Fear and anger poked and prodded her, but Zaifua shoved them back as well. She would deal with all of her emotions later when she had a firmer grasp on her control. The only way to properly control her emotions was to face them with peace.

Her future was uncertain, but she could sense the hardships to come. If she couldn't cope with some slight discomfort while meditating, she would never be able to overcome what lie ahead.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it's short, but there is more on the way.


End file.
